A picture is worth a thousand words
by bleedingsmirk
Summary: One captures beauty in shots , while the other writes about it. A picture is nothing without a caption and a caption is meaningless without a picture... Beauty can be described anyway , such is the beauty of love


A picture is worth a thousand words , was the motto he used to run his life. The silent beauty of the night sky , hovering protectively over all beneath it to the ferocious passion contained within the flames that lick dangerously against anything and everything , leaving behind a trail of burnt crisp . Beauty hid everywhere , and it was his job to find it and expose its beauty to the world. Show the public ,that even the simplest objects could produce a mind boggling image of elegance .Thus , we come to know of the life of a photographer.

WORDS. From the simple ones right up to the bombastic , discombobulating ones. They were his passion , his very bane of existence. Not everything could be described through words , but it was his job to make that happen . He was a carpenter and words and letters were his tools. The pen is stronger than the sword , the quote that encapsuled his entire life into a nutshell. You could destroy a man , or carry him onto a high pedestal with just words. They were dangerous and uncontrollable and they were all under his command. This was a glimpse at the life of a freelance journalist.

' ARTHURRRR !,' a loud booming voice echoed throughout the entire building .

The Chairman of Lightwood Newspaper was a strong powerful man and was already running his father's company at the age of 24 . Yet , to Arthur it only seemed like a brat who was fooling around too much with daddy's money , had gotten caught doing something naughty , and therefore had been slandered away too work in daddy's company…..

Now fooling around with daddy's money AND torturing other people's lives…What a joy…

Arthur Kirkland , 26 of age and a proud English citizen. Working for Lightwood Newspapers for about 2 years. And being bossed around by a guy 2 years his junior. 2 YEARS !

The door to the Chairman's office was pushed open as a messy blonde stepped in . Wild hair , equally untameable eyebrows and a scowl on his flushed face. ' You called , sir ? ,' Arthur inwardly cringed at the thought of calling this brat , Sir. He was panting heavily and his clothes were crumpled and messy . " Just my day …,' he thought.

' Arthur , my father just called me and requested you to see him.,' said Calvin [ A/n – that's the irritating chairman's name.. :p] Arthur nodded. ' But sir.. ( insert cringe here ) , isn't your father in..,' Arthur said but was immediately cut off by Calvin.

' Via Video call, Stupid Blonde. ,' snarled Calvin , shooting Arthur a supposedly deadly glare , that did not affect the Englishmen in any sense whatsoever. Arthur chuckled , as he remembered the old boss telling him that the reason his son hated blonde's was because he was not allowed to dye his hair that very colour when he was 16 .

' Matthew , can you take Arthur ,' he said the name with as much contempt as he could ' to Meeting room 1 , please. Thank you , Matthew. ,' said Calvin over the office intercom . Not a minute later , Arthur found himself courted by a lean guy who did not look over the age of 23 and had his hair tied up in a short ponytail , his incredibly INCREDIBLY blonde hair.

' Hah , I bet he gets tortured by the brat all the time ,' thought Arthur , only to see the Chairman visibly blushing and fidgeting around whenever he made eye contact with ' Matthew' .

**WHOA ! **

_**Mind blown**_**. **

Arthur just stared at the Chairman blushing like a teenage girl and smirked. 'This is going to be good,' he thought , as he walked away from the office and into Meeting room 1 .

A rush of crisp cold air-conditioned air hit Arthur straight on the face as he entered the meeting room, pulling his jacket closer for warmth . As soon as Arthur found a seat , Matthew switched the light's off and immediately the screen came to life.

- MEANWHILE IN ANOTHER PART OF THE WORLD -

The door was tightly shut as he began the ritual. The liquid was already in the tray and there was bare minimum light. With a packet of undeveloped photos in his hands Francis was ready to begin his work.

As he gently placed the pictures into the tray one at a time , he heard a knock at the door . ' Please go away. I'm slightly busy right now ,' answered Francis in retort to the knocking , his slight French accent weighing down on his words.

- Changing it to Francis's point of view. You can kill me in the reviews.-

A muffled noise was soon heard and I noticed the shadow of two feet , refusing to move away from the door and the sound of the doorknob twisting beneath the pressure.

I growled . ' Alfred ,if you open this door so much as an inch and ruin my pictures , you will not even want to know about all the painful things that I can and will do to you ! ,' Normally , I don't shout that much as it is not in my best interest to hurt anyone , but it did stop the shuffling of feet outside the door so all in all it was for a perfectly reasonable cause .

As I was about to leave the room , I hung the now soaked pictures onto the flimsy clothes line that had been tied onto the ceiling waiting for them to properly develop . I gingerly opened the door only to come face to face with my assistant…. I use the term assistant loosely , as the only thing he does is watch me do things and eat…

_Literally…_

' Hey Frenchy ! I wanted to tell you earlier that you got a call from Palewood or something .' he exclaimed . ' You mean Lightwood, don't you Alfred ? ,' I said and he nodded eagerly . He passed my blackberry to me as I scrolled down the contacts and finally found the number.

' Oh , it's that newspaper company. The one being run by Kummel's 24 year old son , right ? I might as well call them.' And with that one button that I pressed , I had sealed the deal and my fate was already set.

( A/N – I was really supposed to end this chapter with that awesome killer sentence.. but I have the urge to write… So BY GOD , I WILL WRITE… ! :D ) and yes , I am on crack right now..

- IN ARTHUR'S PART OF THE WORLD….LONDON-

The screen flickered to life as the image of the Previous Chairman appeared. His round face and crinkled eyes that came from all those years of jovial smiling and sagged cheeks that still had a certain joy to them . Yes , this was the way Arthur remembered his job , all smiles and laughter.

' Ah , Good Morning Arthur . It's been lovely to see you after all this time. How's the freelancing coming along ? Are you feeling well ? Is my son treating you….? ,'Arthur genuinely smiled , as the previous chairman kept on bombarding him with questions concerning his well being and work.

~~~ Changing to Arthur's Point of view . Kill me later..;D~~~

' I'm fine , . Everything is going wonderful . But your beloved son told me that you wanted to see me , and urgently at that too.' I questioned him , while simultaneously cutting him off his never ending series of questions.

He nodded vigorously , and I was reminded of a child. But the word's he spoke of next had nothing childlike about them .

' I have set out a freelancing job for you , my boy . But , it involves an entire crew . ,' continued. I just nodded. ' I know this may not seem like freelancing entirely but you will be working very closely with this team. Especially the photographer.'

Once again , I nodded. It wasn't very unusual to hear about a journalist working with a photographer for an article , more so a freelance journalist.

' So , who will I be working with ? ,' I heard myself ask .

' The Beilschmidt crew . They are also known as ' Out of the Box'.' ( A/n – get it ? Cos Italy was in that tomato box … Episode 1 I think . Does NO ONE remember ? )

I may have looked cool, calm and collected on the outside but that was just for show , I was a wreck.

I knew the Beilschmidt crew ! Hell , I even had a drink with one of them. The albino one , Gilbert was his name. The man had white hair and red eyes. Fucking satanic demon , that one.

But yes , all this inner rambling aside I was comfortable with the choice of photographers. It wouldn't put a burden on my part to act out all the formalities when greeting a new group and they knew me. It was a win – win situation.

Suddenly , a sharp whiney tone rang throughout the meeting room and begin fumbling around in his pocket's till he pulled out a sleek black phone with white streaks adorning it . He looked at the buzzing phone , before looking at me once again and signalled me to wait for him . With that he picked up the phone .

He had turned his back to me , but I could hear my name being uttered more than once in the conversation and immediately my heart fell.

Was I being let go ? But , he just assigned me a new project to work on. What's going on ? All these question's running around my head causing pain and paranoia. My worst enemies.

If it was even possible , when turned back to face me , his expression was even more exuberant . ' Arthur , my lad , you are one lucky boy . The photographer that I had asked to personally assist you in this project has agreed !.' You could practically hear the exclamation marks in his tone .

' I thought I was assigned with the Beilschmidt crew ? Wasn't I ? ,' I asked begrudgingly , shouldn't let him know off the turmoil going on inside of me. Stiff upper lip and all.

' OH…. Yes , that crew was actually a backup plan in case this photographer didn't deem a joint project valuable towards his career at this point in time . Lucky boy aren't you ? Getting the best . Why the magic you both could create. His pictures and your words…. ,' his tone disappearing into a dreamy pause , probably reminiscing about the "magic" that would be this article.

' Um… So who will I be working with now , sir ? .' At this point , I was thoroughly confused . With the exception of blushing at the discreet compliment , he was now pairing me off with another photographer who would create " _Magic" _ with me . God , how wrong that sounded .

' Why , Francis Bonnefoy of course . The Photographer from Paris , France . I'm sure you have heard of him Arthur . ,' I nodded .

Francis Bonnefoy , huh ? Well , I cant say his name is a mystery to me but it does indeed ring a bell . A soft , distant bell that I just can't put my finger on .

Where have I heard of him before ? This Bonnefoy fellow ?

I heard someone mumbling , before a loud click was heard and the entire meeting room fell into darkness.

' It's over ,' I heard a soft voice speak behind me . I turned in my seat to face Matthew . Apparently he had been standing behind me during the entire conference .

' Sorry , I must have blanked out . 'I replied towards the blonde assistant.

' No problem , that usually happens to me whenever Mr. Calvin give's me a long lecture about something , or talks to me in general.,' Matthew answered , smiling shyly at me while switching all the light's back on in the room.

I started laughing . ' That would be a pity seeing as how he has an amazingly huge schoolgirl crush on you …,' I slapped my hand over my mouth as those words had escaped my lips . Friend or not , the irritating chairman was a person too , and he had his own feelings as well.

I heard Matthew chuckle while my blush deepened . ' You're quite the observer aren't you , Arthur . It took my boyfriend weeks to even figure it out. ,' he said , and then he too blushed when he realised his words .

Oh , more secrets. What a day !

' Don't worry ,' I said while patting his shoulder . ' I'm not all that straight myself. So who's the lucky guy ?.'

Now , I felt like sewing my mouth shut. Why was I spilling all of this to Matthew? Frankly , my tongue was on a roll and it didn't want to stop just yet.

' Oh , that's Gilbert Beilschmidt. You know the albino , with red eyes ,' * cue Matthew blushing heavily *

I just stopped in my place and stared. Demonic Gilbert and sweet Matthew . Never really thought about it , but now it does seem possible. Talk about a full day , I'm so going back to bed as soon as I get home .

Maybe I might even google this Bonnefoy guy. I rubbed my temples as I felt a headache coming along.

No , I'm definitely going to bed.

Authors Notes –

bleedingsmirk here .. ;P

I just finished my 10 reasons on how to piss of an Englishmen , or something like that. And if you don't like bad grammar , DON'T READ IT. That was my first story and I didn't edit ANYTHING . The story is like BAD…

Though Goldpen was really sweet to give me encouragement and advice, the other reviews were nice too. But still , I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. I was on a roll. And god knows how much I edited it.

Enjoy yourself , and I would dedicate this story to my friend angelsxdemons but she read a US/UK/FR story and isn't too fond of any story involving that couple…

Anywayz , review , criticize and do whatever the hell you want .

Im flexible… ; ]

See u soon… XD


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